READERS of a certain vintage might remember a 1990s TV advert for DIY products that, the commercial boasted, did “exactly what it says on the tin”. It’s a piece of branding that could be applied equally to the Disney corporation’s long and successful line of stage musicals based on its much-loved animated movies.
Disney’s stage spin-offs – including its first foray into musical theatre, Beauty And The Beast (in 1993), and its Broadway box office record breaker The Lion King (1997) – are made with a popular (and extremely lucrative) formula. Animated family favourites that have been watched – and often rewatched – on cinema and television screens are recreated in assiduously faithful detail.
In the case of Aladdin that means a series of Orientalist stereotypes about the “mysterious” culture of the Arab world. In this production, we’re invited into a world of sword-swallowing street entertainers, scantily clad dusky maidens and brutish, hand-chopping royal guards.
It’s an exoticised, garishly fictional image of the Middle East that sits in uncomfortable contrast to the hideous reality currently being visited upon Gaza and Lebanon.
The great artists of musical theatre (such as Kurt Weill and Stephen Sondheim) addressed themselves to the complex and conflict-ridden world around them. By contrast, the Disney musical theatre juggernaut is an absolute stranger to inconvenient reality.
All of which is to say that – with its unapologetic glitz, its flawless production values and its famous songbook – this musical is as well-polished as a genie’s lamp.
Indeed, the playing of the genie by Yeukayi Ushe (the role voiced by the late Robin Williams in the 1992 animation) accounts for much of the comedy in this staging by director/choreographer Casey Nicholaw. From the early moment in which he inadvertently pulls a Baby Yoda toy from his pocket to the scene in which he creates a song and dance in the palace in the guise of a New Orleans jazzman, Ushe is always on the cusp of stealing the show.
More than a year into this tour, Adam Strong continues to be boo-worthy as the evil vizier Jafar, while Angelo Paragoso excels as his simpering (and hilarious) nincompoop sidekick Iago.
Elsewhere in the cast, in truth, singing and dancing are stronger suits than acting. Gavin Adams is in fine voice (but somewhat short on charisma) as the sparkle-toothed Aladdin, while Desmonda Cathabel plays Princess Jasmine with the required combination of designated glamour and feministic independence.
All-in-all, the production is about as likely to deviate from the Disney formula as Donald Trump is to base his policy programme on compassion. It’s a vibrant and technically accomplished staging, then, and one that, as the old advert said, delivers precisely on audience expectations.
At Theatre Royal, Glasgow until November 30: aladdinthemusical.co.uk
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